


Unwanted Presence

by psychicdreamsandangelwings



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl's emotionally unstable for 2.5 seconds, Daryl's father shows up, Fluff I guess, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Judith is as adorable as ever, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Then Rick swoops in, a little angsty, but then again who does, but there's a happy ending, clearly I don't like him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-26 21:05:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2666351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychicdreamsandangelwings/pseuds/psychicdreamsandangelwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shit hits the fan when the newest recruited member of their group turns out to be Daryl's father.</p><p>(heads up, he's an asshole)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What are you doing here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as I'm aware no one has done anything like this before. The idea came to me while I was watching tonight's episode, don't ask me why but it just did, and I couldn't help but write it.
> 
> Enjoy.

“Pretty sure everything is picked over by now,” Glenn says from behind the bar. He and Maggie were on a run together. The town itself was about an hour’s drive away, far for an average run but they had pretty much picked through all of the local towns and they were in desperate need of more medical supplies.

“Yeah,” Maggie replies, searching through the cupboards across the room from him. The two of them didn’t usually go on runs together, but Maggie hadn't been out much since the birth of their second son and Glenn figured it’d be good for her to get some air.

Glenn was about to call it quits when he caught sight of a semi-hidden compartment behind the bar. It was well hidden and the possibility of other groups finding it was pretty slim. He pulled back the door, rifled inside for a few seconds, before grinning. “Jackpot,” he said, pulling out three state of the art first aid kits along with a couple of hand guns, some batteries, and a few flashlights. Why a bar needed to have three first aid kits was beyond him but he was thankful that they had, it would only add to their rapidly depleting stash of medical supplies. “Look,” he said, holding everything up one at a time to show Maggie before he dropped everything into the bag slung over his shoulder.

“I say we call it quits,” Maggie replied, glancing out the window. “It’s getting pretty dark and we still have an hour’s drive back to the prison. You know how they worry when we aren't back on time.”

Glenn nodded and did one last inventory check to make sure he had everything before stepping from behind the bar. “Let’s go.” The two of them stepped out of the bar together, attention on high alert. Despite the fact that this town was relatively untouched by walkers, it never hurt to be a little extra cautious. The two of them were almost to their car when they heard screaming. They glanced at at each other for a few seconds before coming to a silent decision. They both took off in the direction of the screaming. Once they arrived, they found a man on his back, deteriorated walker sprawled out on top of him. The walker was getting dangerously close to the man's throat and it was clear to see he couldn't hold him off for much longer. Glenn acted quickly, taking out the walker with just a quick stab of his knife. He wiped the blood off on his jeans before reaching down to roll the walker off the man.

“Thanks,” he said standing up. Once he was on his feet he bent over, hands on his knees as he tired to calm his racing heart with deep breaths. “Came out of nowhere.”

Glenn ignored him, more focused on searching his body for any bite marks. "You bit?" he asked when he didn't find anything just to be sure.

"No," the man said, standing up to his full height. He was pretty tall, black hair cropped short against his head. He was an older guy, maybe about Hershel's age. The guy was wearing a ripped wife-beater that was now covered in walker guts and blue jeans tucked into a pair of army boots.

Glenn looked around, trying to scope out any other sign of life. When he didn't see anyone in the close vicinity he came to the conclusion that the guy was by himself. “You hurt?” he asked, not taking his hand off the gun that was holstered at his hip, you could never be too careful, especially around someone you had never met before.

“Ankles sore and I think my shoulder’s dislocated but overall, I’m good.” Glenn watched as the man cracked his neck and straightened his posture. He wasn't sure what the guy was trying to prove. The way the man seemed to dismiss his injuries, like they were nothing but a small setback, was a little nerve wracking, but then again, everyone reacted differently to pain.

“You by yourself?” Glenn asked, clearly taking over the mini interrogation they were having. He glanced over at Maggie for a few seconds to gauge her reaction. He noticed right away that she was regarding the stranger with a confused expression. Maggie had a good sense of character and he knew if she felt something was off with the man, there probably was. He made a mental note to get her opinion as soon as possible.

“Yeah,” the man said, scratching absentmindedly at his forearm. “I was with a group a while back but it… didn’t work out.” He didn't go into much detail about that situation, but Glenn didn't blame him. After all, he had only just met them a few minutes ago.

“It happens,” Glenn said. There’d been a few people they had taken in that ended up causing so much trouble they had to ask them to leave. Not everyone was suited for their group but this guy seemed a little different. Sure it was clear that his vibe was setting Maggie off a little bit, but it was at least worth the shot to add him to their group. If for whatever reason it didn't work out, they'd deal with it then. What could be the harm in that?

“How many walkers have you killed, how many people have you killed, and why?” Glenn asked the proverbial three questions, set on listening intently to what he had to see. Despite the fact that the guy was a little weird, Glenn had to admit he was eager to see his perspective on things.

“I've killed walkers, people too,” the man said. “I ain't gonna say I haven't when I have. It’s what you gotta do. Everyone who’s refused to do what’s necessary to survive is dead. There ain't no need for pussies in a world like this one. There’s no sense of right and wrong when you live in this world, only survival.”

Glenn nodded, satisfied with the man’s answers despite the fact that is was a little brash. “We've got a pretty decent setup near here, even got someone that resembles a doctor, you could join us if you're up to it.” Glenn couldn't be sure if this was the best idea, but he also couldn't leave the man to fend for himself. Worst case scenario, he causes too much tension and they force him to leave; best case scenario, he fits in with the group and becomes an important asset. Either way, they could handle it.

“Why not, there’s nothing left for me here. I just got to grab my stuff and I’ll be back in a few seconds.” Before Glenn could say anything the man was off, limping his way towards the nearest building.

“You’re quiet and you've got that look on your face like something bad's about to happen, what’s up?” Glenn said, taking this brief moment of solitude to get Maggie's opinions of the guy.

“Could be nothing,” Maggie said, eyes never leaving the door that the other man had disappeared into. “He just looks so familiar, like I've seen him before. I don’t know though, could just be seeing things.”

It was then that the man returned, bag slung over his shoulder, and Glenn wasn't able to answer her. He looked a little closer at him and realized he could see what Maggie was saying. He did look familiar, but there was no way he had met the man before. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all, but there’s no way he could take back his offer now. They'd just have to adjust as the situation progressed.

“Ready to go then?” Glenn asked. The man nodded and Glenn and Maggie set off towards their car, the man they had just saved close on their heels.

* * *

“Good news,” Hershel said as he looked over the man Maggie and Glenn had drug back with them. The man was quiet, had barely spoken two words to him since he met him, and while Hershel found that a little odd, there wasn't really anything he could do. Some people just weren't talkers, especially not when they were in a completely new setting. Hershel was alone with the guy, secluded in the room the group had set aside for medical purposes. The newcomer was sitting on the gurney, leg propped up on a pillow, as Hershel checked over his injuries. “I don’t think your leg is broken. ‘Course there’s no way to be sure without an x-ray machine. I’ll wrap it up tightly anyway and I suggest you keep it elevated, don’t use it to much. You need to give it time to heal. Wounds like that usually get worse before they get better, especially if you overuse your limb.”

“Statements like that,” Richard said, “usually come with a bad news as well.”

Hershel laughed slightly and nodded. “Yeah, bad news? Your shoulder is definitely dislocated. It’s gonna be a pain in the ass to get back in and it’ll hurt like hell, but trust me, you’ll cause yourself more pain with a dislocated shoulder then you'd get if you let me fix it.”

Richard nodded and laid back on the gurney, not really having any other choice. This wasn't the first time he had dislocated his shoulder and he knew what to was to be expected. “Just get it over with.”

Hershel nodded and stood up, preparing to pop the man’s shoulder back in place. “So what’s your story?" he asked, moving the newcomer's limbs into position. "Talking might help distract you from the pain.”

“Name’s Richard," Hershel heard. He pressed around the shoulder, trying to get a feel of where everything was before he maneuvered everything into place. "I've got two kids who are probably long dead by now and my wife died before the apocalypse hit,” Richard said, gritting his teeth in preparation. "I've moved around from group to group, never really staying in one place long enough to make any connections.

“Yeah, I get you. I had a wife once, she died but at least I've got my kids to keep me on track. You've got to be able to hold on to the good things in life or you’ll never make it in this world.” By now Hershel had noticed the slight stench of alcohol on his breath and that worried him. If this guy was an alcoholic shit could hit the fan when he realized they didn't allow any into the prison. Alcohol made people do stupid things, it was the last thing you should worry about when survival was at stake, and addicts would do anything to get their next glass.

Richard just grunted and clenched his fist. Hershel was a little taken aback by his standoffish attitude, but again, not everyone dealt with social interactions the same way. Hershel finally knew everything he needed to about Richard's injury and place one hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm. He steadied the limb before jamming it back into place. Even though he had warned Richard it was coming, he still let out a high pitched scream when it was popped back into place. “Sonofabitch,” Richard cursed, closing his eyes in an attempt to block out the pain.

“I warned you,” Hershel said, helping to sit him up. He then opened up the first aid kit and rifled through the contents. There was a bottle of aspirin inside and Hershel took the bottle out before shaking a few into his had, handing them over to Richard. “I’d give you more but with medical supplies as limited as they are, we can’t afford to indulge ourselves. It'll kick in eventually.” Hershel didn't mention the real reason he had only given the man two. Sure he needed to conserve medical supplies, but he also wasn't going to give a large does of pain medication, no matter how trivial it was, to someone who had recently consumed alcohol, who knew how much he had actually ingested. He did seem pretty coherent but there were people who could be completely hammered and still seem all together.

Richard nodded as he took the pills in hand and downed them without water, beggars can’t be choosers after all. “Doesn't matter, ‘preciate the gesture though.”

"That's my job,” Hershel said, digging in the first aid kit for more supplies. “I’m gonna wrap your shoulder and ankle up. There’s a sling in here as well, I suggest you use it to prevent further damage, at least for a couple of days.”

Hershel then set out to bandage the appropriate appendages, being careful not to tighten them so much it cut of their blood supply but tighten enough to provide the proper support. It wasn't long before everything was in place and Hershel was helping him down from the gurney. “All set.”

“Thanks,” Richard said, nodding his thanks as he flexed his aching muscles.

“Maggie and Glenn took off to check on their kids, guess that leaves me to show you around.” Hershel said, leading the way out of the medical room and into the hallway. Richard was quiet as Hershel gave the tour, maybe a little too quiet. He could tell by the way he was reacting that he was paying attention to what Hershel had to say, but he did seem a little off. Hershel wasn't sure this guy was going to be a good fit for their group after all.

“How many people are here?” Richard asked as Hershel lead him throughout the prison. 

“Oh about thirty or so. There used to be more but we had a bad outbreak a few years back that took out a lot of our population. We pick up a lot of stragglers though and our people are beginning to have more and more babies. It's nice to see families forge within the prison walls, almost makes life seem a little like it used to be,” Hershel said as they came to the common room. “This is the common room. Lot of people spend their free time here and it’s where most of us eat. There’s more to the prison than what I showed you but I don’t want you to strain your ankle too much. You can wait here while I get Rick, he’s gonna want to meet you.”

“Rick like your leader or something?” Richard asked, sitting down at one of the nearby tables. Hershel wasn't sure but it almost sounded like Richard was trying to challenge him which was never a good sign.

“Something like that,” Hershel said. “Wait here, I’ll go get him. Put your injured ankle up on the bench next to you, keeping it elevated will help the swelling go down and I can learn more about what damage has been done.”

Richard nodded and did as he was told, lifting his leg up to rest on the bench beside him. By the time he was finished Hershel was gone and from his position Richard could see his retreating figure. This place was mighty interesting after all.

* * *

“Rick,” Hershel said, walking over to where he and Carol were standing in the middle of the garden. It was harvesting season and the two of them were picking the ripe crops. “Glenn and Maggie returned, but they brought back someone with them. He passed Glenn's inspection but I figured you might want to check him out for yourself. He's a little... off.”

Rick nodded and stood up from his position on his knees. If Hershel thought there was something a little off, he really needed to check him out. “You wanna come with?” he asked Carol. These meetings didn’t always go as planned and he wanted to have backup with him just in case everything went south.

“You know it,” she replied, standing up next to him.

“Don’t worry about this,” Hershel said, gesturing to the half harvested basket of crops. “I’ll finish up for you.”

Rick wiped his grimy hands on his jeans, trying to clear them of as much dirt as he could, and nodded. “Thanks Hershel,” he said and with that, he and Carol were off to meet the new guy.

* * *

Daryl had a small break, he wasn't scheduled for watch until tonight and it’d be a couple more days before he needed to go on a hunting trip, and had sworn to Judith he was going to color with her. Call him domesticated but Daryl never backed down on a promise, especially not when it came to Judith. She had a hard enough time given her circumstances and if coloring with her made her happy, who was he too say no? They walk into the common room together, coloring book and crayons in hand. Judith's getting tall, she was only six but she was already up to his chest, and she was every bit as pretty as her Mamma was. When she was older, much older, like in her thirties, she wouldn't have any problem getting a boyfriend. But even at that age Daryl doesn't want to think of her dating. 

Judith’s talking about what she’s learning in the make shift school they had managed to form and all the drama going on with her and her friends. For a six year old in the zombie apocalypse she sure did have a drama filled life. In the roughly six years since they’d found the prison, the group had been taking on a steady increase of families, not to mention their own group having a couple of kids, and they’d decided to set up a system of education that technically represented a school. Their material was limited, you could only find so much in the form of text books these days, and was mainly focused on the basics: reading, writing, and mathematics, but it was something. Beth took on the position of teacher, no one had as much patience with the kids as she did, and she was actually pretty good at it. Not only that but she enjoyed her position, it made her feel like she was doing something worthwhile. 

Daryl wasn't paying much attention to what was going on around them, too intent on listening to Judith, and didn’t notice the figure sitting at one of the tables. Soon enough Daryl catches sight of the man on the other side of the room, leg propped up on the bench beside him and his shoulder confined in a sling. He stops dead in his tracks, unable to believe his eyes, as the box of crayons slips from his fingertips and lands on the concrete flooring with soft thud. The box explodes on impact, crayons flying every which way, but Daryl isn't paying it no mind. He's too engrossed with the image of the man across the room from him to care.

“Well I’ll be damned, look what the cat dragged in,” the man says and Daryl finds himself frozen, unable to speak. He never, not in a million years, would have expected to ever lay eyes on the man across from again. He'd left home before the apocalypse had even started and the idea of the nightmare from his past coming back to haunt him was to much to think about. He figured he had died long ago, the idea that he may have survived so foreign to him he didn’t know what to say, what to do.

“What are you doing here?” Daryl says in shock, defenses instantly going up as he fights to find the words to say. Daryl’s father ignores him, dismissing his question with a single wave of his hand.

"She's a pretty little thing,” Richard says, standing up from his seated position and limping across the room so he's standing in front of the two of them. “How old are you sweetheart?" Richard asks as he reaches out a hand to touch Judith's face.

Daryl felt his chest tighten and his posture harden. He knew the kind of man his father was and he wasn't going to stand there and let him openly gawk at Judith like she was a piece of meat. Judith's scared, he can tell even without looking at her by the way she flinches from his hand and clings desperately to his leg, and that’s an emotion everyone had tried so hard to prevent her from feeling. She may have only been six but she’d seen so much death and destruction by now she had almost as good of a sense of danger as Daryl had. It doesn't take a genius to sense the malice behind Richard’s intentions. Daryl's in front of her in an instant, shielding her with his body so that Richard can no longer touch her. Judith wraps her arms around Daryl's waist and presses her face against the small of his back, trying to seek some form of comfort. She's shaking and Daryl doesn't know how much of this situation she actually understand, all he knows is that his father had reduced Judith to near tears and he was going to make him pay for it. Richard lets out a humorless laugh and Daryl all but growls, body tensing up almost as if he was mama bear poised to protect her cubs.

“Oh calm down princess," he says, taking a few more steps towards Daryl. Daryl notices he’s limping, relying heavily on one leg, and tucks that away in case he needs to use it against him. Daryl tries to step back but he’s already backed himself up into a corner and he doesn't want to take the chance of knocking over Judith. She's still clinging tight to his waist and Daryl rests a hand over hers, trying to comfort her.

"You know I've always preferred little boys,” Richard says, soft enough so that only Daryl can hear him. Daryl’s body is so tense it’d take a professional masseuse to work out all the kinks in his corded muscles. By now his heart is pounding so hard it’s making it hard for him to think, to do anything more than just stand there in shock. Daryl couldn't think of anything, all his mind was able to produce was an increasing level of fear and anxiety and he hated himself for it. Daryl could usually think of way to get out of every situation, but one word from the man he had thought was dead and he’s reduced to the terrified kid he used to be.

“You were such a pretty little thing too, always looked so much like your Mama; that’s why I did what I did all those years ago. You’re still as every bit as pretty as your Mama was. It’s those eyes of yours, every bit as blue as hers." Richard’s close enough to touch now and he takes that opportunity to run a hand down his son's cheek, delighting in the way Daryl flinches instantly. Judith whimpers softly. She might not understand exactly what was going on right now but she knew enough to know that it wasn’t good. All Daryl wanted to do was reach out and comfort her but that wasn’t exactly an option right now. "Don't know why you're acting like that, you were always a fan of my touches; isn't that right Darleena?"

Daryl's frozen, unable to move as his father triggers an avalanche of bad memories. The nights his father would crawl into his bed; the nights he'd take a belt to his back until his skin was bloody and raw; the nights his father would wrap his fingers around his throat until he was on the brink of passing out; the days he'd go to school hungry because his father had refused him yet another meal. He's finding it hard to breathe, hard to think, as his chest tightens even more. It feels as if it's nothing but a twisted ball of pain. He's on the verge of a panic attack and that was the last thing he wanted to happen right now.

He took a series of deep breaths, the ones that Rick always coached him through when this happened, but nothing happened, it wasn't helping this time. He'd never had a panic attack in the open, always back in his cell alone or with Ricks comforting presence there to ground him. He's well aware of Judith's ever tightening grip around his leg and the stench of whiskey pouring off his father in droves, but beyond that, all he can think about was what his father had done to him. Where the old man managed to find liquor in this shit storm they called life Daryl would never know, it definitely wasn't the easiest thing to come by. He's on the verge of collapsing, on the verge of not breathing, when Rick makes an appearance.

"What's going on here?" Rick asks and Daryl is finally able to move, finally able to breathe again. His head clears the second he hears Rick’s voice and he snaps out of is mental displacement. He turns to the side and watches as Carol and Rick walk into the room. In a second he has Judith in his arms, hating the way she wraps her arms tight around his neck and buries her face in his shoulder, she's absolutely petrified and part of it was Daryl's fault. He should have never let his father get so close to them. His father had made an advance at Judith, had terrified her, and that was something that Daryl would never let go.

Daryl pushes past his father, not caring that he falls to the ground in a grunt of pain, and strides over to the doorway where Rick and Carol were standing. Daryl passes the shaking six year old over to Carol with a whispered, "Get her out of here." Judith definitely didn't need to see this and he wanted her out of the way in case something terrible happened.

Carol didn’t ask any questions, she knew better than that when Daryl had that look on his face. Judith began asking questions the second she was in Carol’s arms, she had always been an intuitive child, but Daryl couldn't pay attention to that, he’s got his own worries to focus on right now. He watches as Carol retreats from the room, Judith still clutched in her embrace, and Daryl finally feels that last bit of tension ease out of him. At least he no longer had to worry about protecting Judith from his father.

He briefly debates with himself about whether or not he should have handed Judith to Rick, after all he is her father, but if Daryl was being honest, he needed Rick there for him. It may have been a selfish idea but Daryl wasn't sure he could handle this without his ex-lawman. It was presence, more than anything, that grounded him and reminded him where he was. Rick reached out for Daryl as soon as he was sure that Judith was out of harm’s way, hands gentle on his shoulder, and Daryl couldn't help but relax instantly. Rick had always had a calming affect on him, even back in Atlanta when they hardly knew each other. 

“He fucking you?” Richard spit out, making his presence know when Daryl had almost forgotten he was even there.

Daryl ignored the question, instead choosing to ask one of his own. “What the hell are you doing here?” Daryl said, every bit of his voice dripping with venom. Now that Judith wasn't here, and he didn’t have to focus on protecting her, he got angry, angrier than he had been in his entire life. The idea of someone putting an unwanted hand on Judith, even if it was just a tactic to get under his skin, was something that Daryl was never going to forget.

“Didn't you hear? That dark haired bitch and her chink of a boyfriend brought me here, apparently I’m an honored guest,” Richard said, every bit as cocky as he had always been.

Daryl grit his teeth and resisted the urge to lunge after him when he heard his father use that derogatory word. Before the apocalypse he wouldn't have thought twice about using himself, but now that he’s changed the very sound of it makes his blood boil. It'd been so long since he had heard anything like that and he had almost forgotten just how intolerant the world could be. “Not anymore you aren't, get out.” Daryl stood with his hands balled into fists, fury emanating off of him in waves.

“Whoa, Daryl, don’t be rash,” Rick said, resting a hand on Daryl’s arm to try and calm him down. Daryl pulled away from the touch, shocking Rick, and growled. In Rick's defense, he didn't know the full story, but he didn't care at the moment. All he wanted to do was make sure his father was far away from this prison and the people he cared about.

“Yeah Darleena, listen to your faggot of a boyfriend,” Richard sneered. Daryl lunged at the man, only to be held back by Rick’s arms around his waist.

“Daryl that’s enough,” Rick said, trying to get him to calm down. Clearly the two of them had their issues, and despite the fact he wasn't sure what those issues were there wasn't a doubt in his mind that it was justifiable, but he wasn't about to let him attack a defenseless man in the middle of the prison's common room.

“Do not tell me that’s enough,” Daryl said, pulling harshly away from Ricks’ grasp. “I have every right to be as angry as I am.” Daryl turned so he was facing his father, defensive scowl presiding over any other expression. “You don’t get to come into my home, acting like you’re the cock of the walk, and insult my family. You don’t get to refer to Rick like that, you don’t get to make a pass at Judith, and you certainly don’t get to stay here. This is my territory, my people, and I'm not going to let you waltz in here and insult the people I care about. You scared Judith, and that's something I'll never forgive.”

“Just my luck,” Richard murmurs. “I lost both my kids long ago and the one I actually run into again has turned into a pussy. ‘You hurt my feelings you mean old man,’” Richard mocks, limply holding his wrist in a way that is clearly supposed to be offensive. “Please. I didn’t raise you to be no pussy boy, at least if I had ran into Merle he’d be a real man, not this façade you’re trying to pull. You’re a disgrace to the Dixon name.” Richard took a step forward and spits at Daryl, hitting him in the eye. Snot mixed with spit starts to slip down his face and Daryl wipes at with his sleeve.

He’s about to say something but Rick beats him to it. In a second he’s on the man, wrenching his hands behind his back in a way that has to be agonizing for that shoulder of his. Sure enough, Richard lets out a curse of pain but Rick doesn't care. He’s got his handcuffs out and around Richard’s wrist so fast he probably broke a record. After he’s sure the cuffs are secure he spins him around and gets a good look at him. Daryl just stand there, not sure what he should be doing. “You Daryl’s father?”

Richard glares at Rick and tries to head-butt him but Rick pulls back just in time to avoid it. “I’m gonna take that as a yes,” he says before pulling back his fast and slamming it into the Richard’s eyes. He falls hard, already injured shoulder and ankle throbbing as he hits the ground.

Daryl’s so in shock he doesn't do anything, just watches as Rick takes another swing at his father, knocking the breath out of him. Rick probably would have continued if Tyreese hadn't shown up, Carol must have called in reinforcements. Tyreese has his arms around Rick in a second, dragging him back before he can get in any more hits. “You son of a bitch,” he yells, trying to get free from Tyreese’s hold but he can’t. Rick may be strong, but Tyreese is much stronger than him. “You fucking bastard. Good people have died, people who had many more years to live, and you're the one fucking survived? You worthless piece of shit, I’ll end you. After everything you've done to Daryl, you think you can talk to him like that? You don’t deserve to look at him. You don’t deserve to live, especially not after what you tried to do with my daughter you uncultured swine.”

Daryl has seen Rick in many different forms of anger, but this is something he's never seen before. The man is rabid with hatred, screaming and yelling at his father as he tries to break free of Tyreese's iron clad grip. Daryl’s got to admit, seeing Rick come to his defense is sort of heartwarming, but totally unneeded. The last thing he needed was for Rick to take out his old man. Sure he hated the man with every inch of his being, and he definitely wanted him dead, but he didn't want Rick to have to do it. Richard was subdued, he couldn't hurt anyone, and that was enough for him. “Rick,” Daryl says, stepping closer to him. He’s still in Tyreese’s hold, a good thing too because he’s still trying to fight to get free of his hold. Daryl rests a hand on his neck, trying to get him to calm down. “Rick stop.” At the sound of Daryl's voice he stops his struggling.

After a few seconds of calm, Tyreese releases his hold and him and Mathew, a guy who had shown up at the prison a few months ago with his twin sons, hauls Richard to his feet. “What do you want us to do with him?”

“Put him in an empty cell until we can decide what to do,” Rick says, snaking an arm around Daryl’s waist in an attempt to calm both him and himself down, a gesture for which Daryl is grateful for. Daryl catches sight of Carol in the doorway, no Judith in her arms, and silently thanks her. Carol just nods and retreats, fully willing to give the two of them some privacy.

Once Tyreese and Mathew leave with Richard it’s just the two of them. Daryl’s quiet, quieter than he has been all day as he tries to process what just happened. Rick, bless his soul, doesn't do anything, just waits for a cue from Daryl to tell him what to do. Daryl's breathing is uneven and his head hurts so bad he can hardly see. He is having a hard time processing everything. There are so many emotions filtering through him; pain, fear, anger, and he’d never been good at sorting through them.

It’s a few minutes after Richard was removed when Daryl’s shoulders start to heave, signaling that something was about to happen. That movement is all it takes for Rick to cross the few inches separating the two of them. In an instant he has Daryl in his arms, arms wrapped tight around the archer’s back. Daryl starts to shake, body clearly going through the motions of sobbing without making a sound. Daryl’s got his hands wrapped tightly around him, face buried in that spot where shoulder meets neck, and his entire body is shaking, shoulders moving up and down quickly. Rick’s skin is wet so he knows that Daryl is crying but he doesn't comment on it, just lets Daryl react in a way that makes sense to him. He's known Daryl for a long time, had been there for him through everything, and knew every one of his signals by heart. Right now, what Daryl needed was Rick to just stand there and be something that he can lean on. He doesn't need to talk, he won't talk until he's completely ready, all he needs is a support system.

“Why?” Daryl asks a few minutes later, arms so tight around Rick that it’s almost hard for him breathe, but he doesn't dare pull away. “Why me? Why’d he have to come back, why’d he have to bring all this shit with him, why does he always have to come in and ruin my life.”

Rick doesn't say anything, just guides Daryl over to the nearby wall. Even though Daryl's talking it's clear to him that going into the details of it all right now is not what he needs. All he needs is for Rick to be there, let him lean on him while he tries to sort through the mess that is his head. Rick slides down the wall, pulling Daryl with him, and the two of them lean against each other, relishing in the comfort they always provide. Rick wraps his arm around Daryl’s waist and Daryl takes it upon himself to lean against Rick’s side, turning his face slightly so it’s pressed against the smooth skin of his neck. He doesn't want to talk right now, but knows that eventually he’s going to have to. Daryl wasn't an open person and he got easily confused by his emotions. It was hard for him to confide in anyone that wasn't Rick, and Daryl wasn't willing to talk to him until he had made sense of his emotions completely.

“Don’ wanna talk,” Daryl mumbles, suddenly feeling exhausted, and he knows that Rick’s gonna understand, he always understands.

“I know, let’s just sit here a while, relax,” Rick says. He’s in no hurry to get anywhere else and as far as Rick’s concerned, his only priority for the rest of the day is to provide Daryl with whatever comfort he needs. They can deal with everything else later.

They sit like that for a while, not speaking, just relishing in each other’s company. Daryl’s almost asleep and Rick isn't that far after him when they hear hesitant footsteps. Daryl looks up to see Judith standing there, hands clasped together in front of her with a worried expression on her face. He’s not sure how long it’s been since Richard was taken away, but he’s sure that Carol had made sure Judith stayed away long enough to give him and Rick privacy. Sometimes he believed that woman understood more about their relationship than they did.

“Hey munchkin,” Daryl says, reaching out for Judith. Judith is in his arms instantly, hugging his neck as if it’s her only lifeline to reality.

“That was scary,” she whispers, shifting slightly so she’s sitting halfway on both of their laps.

Daryl smiles sadly and presses a kiss against her temple. “Yeah, I’m sorry that happened.”

“Is he a bad man?” Judith asks and suddenly Daryl's struck by just how young she is. In the world they lived in Judith had to deal with a lot of adult issues, which made her seem older than she actually was. Truth of the matter was that she was only six, despite how wise she seemed sometimes, and still maintained a level of innocence that surprised Daryl to this day.

“Yeah, he is,” Daryl says, absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair.

There’s a slight pause before she asks her next question and Daryl figures she’s probably trying to decide if she should ask it or not. “Did you kill him?”

Rick and Daryl share a look before he answers. “No we didn’t,” Rick says softly. “Tomorrow we’re going to let him go, make sure he can never come back again.”

“Good," Judith says, snuggling against Rick and Daryl both, the only stable parental figures she had ever known. “He made my Daryl sad,” she says, looking up at Daryl. “I don’t like to see you sad.”

Daryl just smiles. “I’m okay baby,” he says, and he knows that no matter what happened next, that was the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened. There's a lot of parts of this that I'm not sure I really liked. It was my first time writing Glenn and Hershel's point of view and I'm not sure I did them justice.
> 
> Not much is known about Daryl's father, and I'm pretty sure he's not as horrible as I wrote him, but I don't care. And, I'm pretty sure his father hasn't been given a name so I just named him Richard (mainly because I think he's a huge dick, see what I did there lol).
> 
> Hope you enjoyed.


	2. You need to talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided that I really like this story, a lot actually, and it needed to be continued. Next chapter should be the last chapter, as long as I don't get any new ideas. 
> 
> Thanks for all of those who commented, left kudos, etc, hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you enjoyed last chapter.

Word about Daryl's father spread throughout the prison like wildfire and quickly became the next topic of juicy gossip. Goes to show you that even in the zombie apocalypse, people always find something to gossip about. Everyone knew who Daryl was, some even idolized him as if he was the prison's biggest celebrity, but none of them knew his story and that’s the way he liked it. He wasn’t proud of his past and had never wanted it to be brought up again. There were bets amongst the younger group members, everyone trying to guess who he had been before all this happened and why he had managed to settle here of all places, but no one had really come close to hitting at the heart of it. Daryl’s Dad was a mean drunk who had never gotten over the death of his wife and blamed Daryl for surviving the fire. Richard beat the shit out of him and Merle, molested him, and never bothered to stock the cupboards so Daryl had to scavenge for food ninety percent of the time. His upbringing was rough but the only person who really knew how bad it was, was Rick. Daryl didn’t talk about his past, most of them didn’t, so no one really knew his story.

So when word got around that Daryl's father was here and there had been some kind of altercation, rampant accusations spread like melted butter. Some people, mainly the original prison group who knew at least a little about Daryl's past tried to settle the more outrageous rumors, but it didn’t seem to work. The stories just got wilder and wilder as time went on and they showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. In block A they were throwing around the possibility of Richard being a serial killer, block E believed he had been an up and standing member of the KKK and a known skinhead, and in block F they entertained the idea of Richard being a member of the Chicago mob, how a member of the Chicago mob ended up all the way down here in Georgia no one knew.

Even the youngsters were speculating what Daryl’s problem with his father was. They had heard from Judith that Richard was a bad man, so many of the kids believed Daryl was some sort of superhero intent on saving them from the bad guys. This theory only furthered the children's hero worship of him. All of them wanted to be just like him when they grew up. You had to give them credit for imagination, no matter how far off it was from the truth. Almost nobody got even remotely close to the truth, despite how outrageous their accusations seemed to be. Perhaps the idea of someone as strong and tough as Daryl being abused was incomprehensible, or maybe they just weren't willing to admit the possibility.

Rick might have been amused if it wasn't so infuriating. It'd been a day since Richard had been brought to the prison and they still hadn't done anything with him. He was being held in a cell, away from the general population, until they could come up with a clear plan to get rid of him. They couldn't kill him, even after all he had done most everyone thought that was too inhumane, but they couldn't let him go and risk the possibility of him returning. Rick still remembered that incident where Andrew had let a walker hoard loose in the prison, looking for revenge, and had indirectly cost the lives of Lori and T-Dog. He didn’t want another Andrew situation but they couldn't just leave him locked up in a cell for the rest of his life. It was a cluster fuck of different ideas with various pros and cons to each one and Rick had never been so torn before over what should be done.

Rick knew Daryl better than anyone, Carol being a close second, and he could definitely tell when something was wrong with him. This entire situation was eating at Daryl, whether or not he wanted to admit it. He couldn't go anywhere without getting pitiful stares, as if he was the next charity case, and the whispers behind his back were loud enough to get anyone's attention. The constant bombardment of the gratified group had already been too much for Daryl to handle, and the fact that their attention on him now was focused primarily on the story between him and his father just made everything ten times worse. Daryl had had enough to deal with given his father’s return, he really didn’t need to deal with unwanted attention from people. Daryl was a private person. He kept his feelings bottled up and wore a mask of stability throughout every situation, no matter what it was. That was Daryl. He’d spent so many years pushing down his emotions and past until they were nothing but a tiny ball of pain, buried so far in the back of his mind Rick wasn't sure he’d ever be able to access it.

Daryl had never been good with attention. He didn’t like to be touched by anyone he wasn't absolutely comfortable with; he didn’t like anyone in his personal bubble; he couldn't stand it when people crowded around him and threw “thank yous” and “you’re a hero” his way. To him, it didn’t matter that he had saved all their lives more than once, it didn’t matter that he had brought in most of the newcomers, it didn’t matter that his solo hunting excursions basically fed the entire group, it didn’t matter that he went above and beyond to provide for the hectic prison. Daryl didn’t want to be thanked, didn’t think he needed it. To him, that was just his job. He was the protector, the hunter, the one who rationalized every situation, Rick’s right hand man. Daryl was the guy who didn’t trust easily but once he did, you’d have a loyal friend no matter what happened. He knew he was important, especially to Rick and his kids, and he knew he was accepted. That was enough for him, he didn’t need to be reminded of it.

Sure he would try to converse with everyone he ran into, but that didn't mean he was anymore social than he had always been. Daryl wasn't comfortable with anyone he didn't know well, all this attention had him feeling like a caged animal and if there was one thing you didn’t do it was make Daryl feel caged. You’d be on the receiving end of one hell of an angry Dixon.  As of now, Daryl couldn't go anywhere without speculating glances and whispered accusations. Everyone was talking about him and it wasn't going to be long before he snapped.

Finally, Rick had had enough. It was clear to him that Daryl needed to escape, get away from the prison for at least a few hours so he could clear his head. He knew if he didn't offer soon enough Daryl was just going to take off by himself, something that definitely wasn't a good idea in the state he was in. They weren't going to be gone long, only a few hours, but Rick still needed to make sure all their duties were taken care of before they left. Daryl was scheduled for tonight's dinner watch and Rick managed to switch his shift tonight with Tyreese’s shift tomorrow, just in case their trip lasted longer than he intended it to. He had also asked Hershel to take over the remaining harvesting, something that he readily agreed to do. He could see the signs just as clear as Rick could, someone needed to get Daryl out of the prison before he exploded.

Once that was cleared away, Rick went in search of Carl. He found him in the yard playing with Judith and a few of the other younger kids. "Hey," he called, waving Carl over. Rick watched as Carl set Judith down and made his way over to where Rick was standing by the prison wall.

"What’s up?" Carl asked once he was standing in front of his father.

"I need you to keep an eye on Judith for me and make sure everyone stays away from Richard's cell. Have Michonne or someone bring him some food but otherwise, leave him where he is. I don't want you or Judith going near him, I don't want anyone going near him unless it's to bring him food. The last thing we need is another outburst. I know it’s highly unlikely something’s gonna happen while we’re gone but make sure the group doesn't decide what to do with him until we’re back," Rick explained. As long as Richard remained behind bars everything should go smoothly, but he was beginning to understand the type of person Richard was and he wouldn't put it past him to try and start shit with the others in the prison.

Carl nodded, task easy enough for him to do. "You taking Daryl out?"

Rick nodded, not wanting to say much on the subject. "We shouldn't be gone long, couple of hours tops, but if we're gone longer don't worry."

"Consider it done," Carl said.

Rick smiled and clapped Carl on the shoulder. "I'll be back soon."

Carl nodded and retreated back over towards Judith. Judith looked up at Rick, slightly confused. She always felt she needed to know and understand everything that was going on around her, the girl was too curious for own good. Rick gave her a reassuring smile and she relaxed, going back to playing almost instantly. Even Judith, young as she was, could tell there was something wrong.

After making sure that all his and Daryl's duties were accounted for, he made his way in search of Daryl. He hadn't seen the man since they had parted ways this morning. Eventually he found him in the outside pavilion, standing next to Carol. The two of them were in front of the prison’s makeshift grill, some sort of meat cooking, talking lowly to each other. Daryl laughed and Rick couldn't help but smile. There were a few people sitting at the tables near them, most of them whispering about Daryl’s confrontation with his father. Daryl paid them no mind however, too engrossed in his and Carol’s conversation to notice. Gotta love Carol, she had always been good at distracting Daryl.

"Hey," Rick said, coming up behind the two of them. He rested a hand on Daryl’s lower back and Rick pretended not to notice the way he leant into his touch. "I'm going hunting, just thought I’d let you know."

"You’re shit at hunting," Daryl said simply, turning around so he was facing him. Rick laughed.

"I know, that's why I'm asking you to come with me," Rick said and the resounding look of relief was worth every ounce of effort he had put into making this surprise hunting trip happen.

"Hell yeah," Daryl said. He picked up a piece of already cooked meat and tossed it in his mouth before handing one over to Rick. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Michonne walked towards where Richard was being kept, carrying a plate of food and a bottle of water. Carl had found her not that long ago and had asked her to take food to Richard, which she agreed to. She wasn't sure how good of idea it was to send one of the only black people at the prison to their racist charge, but it’s not like they had many choices to begin with. They couldn't just ask anyone to take food to him, half the prison would be too invested in finding out what had happened between Daryl and Richard and Michonne wasn't going to let that happen. Daryl didn’t want people to know about his demons and Michonne respected that.

It wasn't long before she made it to Richard’s cell. The man was sitting on the bunk, staring out the window. What he was thinking about Michonne didn’t care, probably didn’t want to know if she was being honest. Richard turned his head once he heard footsteps and scoffed when he caught sight of Michonne.

“This place is overrun with mutts,” Richard said, standing up. They had uncuffed his hands once he was inside the cell, no point in leaving them on him, and removed anything that could be used as a weapon.

Michonne had enough dignity to ignore him, she wasn't going to let some racist prick get under her skin. She had faced ignorance plenty of times before, no point in rising to the bait and giving the bigot the satisfaction of seeing her angry. “Brought you some food,” she said without emotion, passing the plate and water bottle under the bars.

“I don’t want food tainted by the likes of you,” Richard spit, kicking the plate. The metal plate slid across the floor and sent the food flying everywhere.

“Really?” Michonne asked, disgust barely concealed. The insult wasn't what angered her, it was the blatant waste of food. They didn't have an unlimited supply of food and the fact that Richard felt like he could waste it pissed her off. They had a lot of people to feed, every bit of food needed to be utilized to keep everyone fed. They couldn't afford to waste anything. “Fine, don’t eat. You can starve for all I care, it ain't hurting me none.”

Michonne could tell Richard was starting to get frustrated with her lack of reaction, which just proved her point. Richard was an abusive asshole who said outrageous things because he wanted to get a reaction. He probably believed them, but that wasn't the point. He was just a lonely old man who used bitter words to get attention. Michonne found him pathetic, nothing more than a racist bastard.

“Can’t believe my son’s associating himself with people like you,” Richard said and Michonne laughed, angering him even more. “I didn’t raise no pussy, he ain't a real man.”

“Daryl’s more of a man than you will ever be,” Michonne said, meaning every word she said. She’d heard stories of how Daryl was before, when Rick and them had first met up with him, and know that she had met his father it wasn't hard for her to understand why he had been that way. The past didn’t matter anymore as far as she was concerned. All that mattered was the person you were today, and Daryl was a damn good man. He had saved her life more than once and she would always defend him.

Richard laughed loudly. “You don't know my son."

"Oh I don't?" Michonne said, stepping closer to the cell door. "Your son's the one who saved my life; he's the one who did everything he possibly could to get Judith the formula she needed when she was just days old; he's the one who hunts for this prison; he's the one who will do whatever it takes to provide for and protect his family. You can rant all you want about the man you think your son is, but you will never know him like I do. You lost that right long ago. Daryl is a damn good man, don't you fucking dare try and act like you know him."

Richard was speechless for a few seconds before he recovered. "Well look at you, tough bitch. You act like you’re all hot shit, carrying that katana on your back. I bet you don’t even know how to use it.”

Michonne couldn't help but laugh. She was done with Richard, she didn't need to prove herself to him. Michonne turned around and headed down the hall. She was almost all the way down the hall when Richard spoke again.

“Hey,” Richard called after her but Michonne ignored him. “Nigger, I’m talking to you."

Michonne froze instantly. It’d been so long since she had heard that word, it shocked her. She turned around, face nothing but a cool expression. “What do you want?” she said, voice as cold as ice.

Richard smiled, happy he had at least struck a chord with the woman. He was quiet for a second before he opened his mouth once more. “Do you know where Merle is?”

“He’s dead,” Michonne said, all sense of sympathy for this man gone. If he had been anyone else, Michonne would have felt bad. As far as she's concerned though, anyone who puts their hands on their kids is at the bottom of the totem pole. Richard didn't deserve her sympathies. With that, she turned around and stormed off down the hall.

* * *

“Rick, if ya don’ shut the hell up yer gonna scare all the wildlife away,” Daryl snarled. If it had been anyone else they’d probably be hurt but Rick knew Daryl, knew him well. He didn’t mean what he said to come off as snippy.

“Thought you liked it when I spoke?” Rick asked, lowering his voice slightly. The two of them had been in the woods for only an hour and already Rick could see Daryl’s entire demeanor changing. He was more comfortable, less stiff, and Rick was happy to see that.

“Ain’t you a cocky one?” Daryl huffed.

“You love it,” Rick said, running a hand down the back of Daryl's neck making him shiver.

Daryl blushed hotly and pulled away. “We’re supposed to be hunting.”

“I know,” Rick said, pulling back. They’d already found a couple of squirrels but if they wanted to pull off a successful hunt they needed to find something bigger. “I couldn't resist.”

The two of them were quiet for a while, relishing in the comfort they felt when it was just the two of them. Rick and Daryl didn’t need talking to fill the silence, they were fine with just the comfort being alone with each other brought them. A few hours later they came across a deer and Rick froze in his tracks. He definitely wasn't a quiet person out here in the woods and he’d never forgive himself if he was the one to scare off the deer. He watched Daryl take a few steps closer, footsteps so silent they didn't make a sound, so he was in a better position. Daryl took his aim and drew back his crossbow, firing off a few bolts. The deer fell instantly.

Rick walked after Daryl and watched as he retrieved his arrows. He gutted the deer, making it easy for the two of them to haul back the meat, and prepared it for the short trek back to the prison. Soon enough they had a large deer and a few squirrels ready to be brought back. It was getting darker by the second and Rick knew they should probably head in soon. “It’s a decent sized haul, we should probably head back by now,” Rick commented and Daryl grunted his agreement. He was starting to become agitated again and Rick was sure it was because he wasn't ready to head back yet.

“Come sit with me,” Rick said softly, taking Daryl’s hand gently in his and pulled at him. Daryl followed him without a fight and the two of them sat resting against a large oak tree, the game they had caught just a few feet away. “You know,” Rick said after a few seconds of silence, “you still haven’t talked about it yet.”

Daryl shrugged and picked up a nearby stick. He started to draw random patterns in the hard packed dirt beneath them. “What’s there to say?”

“You’re father showed up,” Rick said, trying to think about the best way to go about this. He didn’t want to push Daryl into talking before he was ready but he knew he needed to talk before he got back to the prison. If not, he was only going to keep everything bottled up until eventually he exploded. At least out here it was just the two of them. “And I know how horrible your childhood was.”

“What do you want me to say? That my dad beat me? That he was a drunk who could hardly remember to pay the bills on time? My childhood was hell, end of story,” Daryl said, probably harsher than he actually meant.

Rick sighed and rested a hand on Daryl's shoulder only for him to flinch away from his touch. It had been so long since Daryl had flinched from him Rick couldn't help but be a little surprised. “There’s more to it than that, Daryl, don’t tell me there isn't. Remember, we sleep together and you talk in your sleep. I know what he did to you, why it took so long for you to be comfortable with intimate touches, why you’re still not comfortable with everything,” Rick said.

Daryl had nightmares about his childhood sometimes. He'd thrash around in bed, waking up Rick, begging for someone to stop. It wasn't hard for him to figure out what he was dreaming about. Daryl would wake up, a crazed look in his eyes and sweat dripping off of him. Sometimes he'd be so confused he wouldn't know where he was. Then he'd catch sight of Rick and he'd relax almost instantly. Daryl would unconsciously maneuver himself closer to Rick and he'd take the man in his arms, whispering softly until he fell back asleep. He never once asked what the nightmares were about, something that Daryl was grateful for, but it was easy enough for him to figure them out.

Daryl tensed up. “You said you were okay with that,” Daryl said, tone almost accusatory.

“And I am. That’s not what this relationship is about to me, Daryl. It’s more than just sex. I care about you and I don’t care how long it takes for you to be able to further things along, I’m fine with what we’re able to do now. We're together and that's all that will ever matter to me,” Rick said, completely honest. Sure he got horny, he was human after all, but he was fine settling his urges with his hand. He didn't need Daryl to do it for him. Their relationship was built on trust and companionship, not desire and sex.

“What if I’m never okay with going further?” Daryl spoke so quietly that Rick could barely hear him.

“Look at me,” Rick said, lifting Daryl’s face up towards him and for once, Daryl didn’t protest. Rick didn’t care if his actions seemed sappy, he needed Daryl to understand him. “I don’t care if you’re never okay with it. I love you for you, not for what sex you can provide me with. We've been together for a long time now and I've never, not once, asked you to do anything you weren't comfortable with. What we've done so far is good enough for me. All I want is for you to let me in. You've been pushing down your emotions for so long I don’t even know if you know what you’re feeling.”

“He can’t stay here Rick,” Daryl said frantically, on the verge of panicking. “I don’t want him here. I can’t go near him without thinking of what he did to me and I feel like such a worthless pussy. I’m a grown ass man and it’s been years since he’s done anything, I should be able to handle it.”

"He's gone tomorrow," Rick said, his words final. "We'll take him out so far out he won't be able to find his way back." He had accepted the fact that he couldn't kill Richard, the only other option was to make him leave. “Everyone reacts differently Daryl, it doesn't matter how much time has passed. Bottling everything up inside is never going to help, it’s just going to hurt you. You need to talk, I don’t care who it is as long as you’re talking. This thing you’re doing, it’s dangerous. I get it Daryl, believe me I do. You feel like you have to be the strong one, the one who everyone depends on, the one who can handle anything at any time. You’re forgetting you’re human, you’re not invincible. Pain affects you just as much as it affects everyone, it’s time you let someone in.”

Daryl didn’t speak for a long time and Rick almost came to the conclusion that he never would, until he opened his mouth and everything just spewed from him. “He hurt me, Rick, in ways that I don’ even fully understand. From the time my Mama died, he was different. I don’ think he ever got over her death and ‘cause I was in the house when the fire started and survived, he blamed me. He treated me and Merle like hell. It wasn't so bad at first, but then Merle left and everythin’ got so much worse. You've seen my scars, you know what he’s done. He’d, he’d beat me with his belt until my back was a bloody mess of torn skin. Sometimes he’d wrap his hands around my throat and squeeze until I almost passed out. He’d come into my room at night, so drunk he could barely walk, and he’d…. he’d molest me. For years I wanted to die, contemplated how I would do it. I came so close so many times ‘m surprised 'm still standing here.

“I’m scared, I’m angry, I’m hurt, I’m confused, I’m a mixture of so many different emotions right now it’s disorienting,” Daryl said, breathing starting to pick up. Rick reached out and took Daryl’s hand in his, running his fingers over the callused skin in an attempt to calm him down. “I wanna kill him,” Daryl snarled. “I wanna watch the life leave his eyes. Everythin’ he done to me, what he said ‘bout Judith, I can’t think straight when I think about it. I think of all the kids at the prison, not jus’ Judith, and I know they aren't safe with him there, no one is safe when he’s there. But, at the same time, I don’t want to kill him. He’s a monster and I want him to rot in hell, if there’s even a hell, for all eternity, but I don’ think I can kill him. After everything he’s done to me, I don’t want him to die and that’s the most disturbing bit of this. I wish he had never shown up.”

By now Daryl’s breathing is so fast Rick isn't sure if he’s even taking in any air. He’s on the verge of a panic attack and Rick sprang into action right away. “Daryl,” Rick said, taking Daryl’s face into his hands and turning it to look at him. “You need to calm down. Match my breathing, okay? In and out, in and out,” Rick said, taking slow, deep breaths.

Daryl copied him, breathing quick and ragged at first but eventually slowing to match Rick’s. Once Rick was sure Daryl was calmed down enough he wouldn't switch into panic mode he spoke again. “You've had all that bottled up inside for so long, it was just waiting to spill out. I don't know what kind of man you see yourself as Daryl, but let me tell you what I see. I see a man who survived hell and changed his ways. I see a man who's become so strong and so reliable I could depend on him for anything. I see a man who became a father to my kids when I was at my lowest. I see a man loved and trusted by every single person at that prison. I see a man who has risked his life more than once to protect others. I see a friend, a brother, a father, a lover, I see the strongest man I have ever met, Daryl. That's the kind of man you are and I don't care what your father or anyone else says, I'm so glad I've gotten the pleasure of loving you. I’m always going to be here to talk,” Rick said, not needing to say anything more than that. Daryl knew Rick was always going to be there for him, he didn’t need to spend hours professing his feelings.

“Thanks, Rick,” Daryl said softly. “I doubt you know how much this means to me.” Rick just nodded and the two of them sat side by side. He had a pretty good idea about what this meant to Daryl. It meant he didn’t have to do anything alone, it meant that he always had someone he could confide in, it meant that Rick wasn't just going to up and leave because Daryl couldn't ‘put out.’

“I know why you did this,” Daryl said, gesturing to their kills. “You wanted to get me out of the prison, and I thank you for that.”

Rick nodded, he didn’t need to say anything because Daryl knew. “It’s getting pretty dark,” Rick said, looking up at the dark sky above them. “We should probably head back now.”

Daryl nodded and stood up. The two of them gathered their animals and headed back towards the prison. Rick noticed Daryl looked a hell of a lot more relaxed then he had before they left, and that made the entire trip worth it.

* * *

Tyreese was on watch when they returned. Daryl had tried to take over for him, after all it had been his in the first place, but Tyreese refused. Daryl had protested but once again, Tyreese had refused. “I’ll finish up for you,” he had said, so Daryl and Rick hauled their catch inside and began to skin it.

“You’re still shit at this,” Daryl said with a smile as Rick attempted to skin one of the squirrels. No matter how hard Daryl tried to teach him, Rick never seemed to get the hang of anything that involved cleaning animals.

“I’m still shit at everything,” Rick said good-naturedly.

“Not at everything,” Daryl said seriously. Rick bumped him with his hip and continued to butcher his skinning job. Daryl was about to say something once more but Carl walked by carrying a plate of food.

“Hey, everything go good?” Rick asked.

“Yeah,” Carl said, unconvincingly. “Sort of. Michonne went to give Richard food earlier today but he refused to eat it if she brought it. She didn’t say much, but from the way she came storming back I figured it had to have been pretty bad. I’m gonna take him a new plate before-”

“No,” Daryl said quickly, cutting Carl off.

“What do you mean no? I’m all for not feeding the asshole if that’s what you want, but he hasn't eaten in who knows how long,” Carl said.

“It’s not that, I’ll take it. I don’t want you around him.” The thought of Carl coming into contact with his father was not something he wanted to think about. Carl was practically a man now, but he wasn't going to give his father the opportunity to say anything to him. He cared about him too much to put him in that position.

“You want company?” Rick asked.

Daryl was so tempted to say yes, admit that everything would be easier if Rick was there. But he didn’t want that. He couldn't rely on Rick to fix all his problems and this was something that he alone had to do. “No, I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll stay here,” Carl said, handing over the plate of food in his hand. “Just to make sure Dad doesn't ruin the meat.”

“I’m not that terrible,” Rick exclaimed with a laugh and the two of them started bickering back in forth, all in good spirit.

Daryl took that as his cue to leave, plate in hand. He made his way towards where his father was being held in a relatively deserted section of the prison.

It wasn't long before Daryl reached the cell. Richard was sitting on the floor as he stared at the wall, seemingly lost in thought. What he was thinking Daryl would never know, didn’t want to know. “Here,” Daryl said briskly, pushing the plate underneath the bars. He saw the plate from earlier on the floor, food scattered everywhere, and he was pissed. Not only had he refused the food Michonne brought, but he also had the audacity to scatter it across the room. They couldn't afford someone being so wasteful.

“Darleena,” Richard said with a cheerful smile and Daryl grit his teeth. He absolutely hated when his father referred to him as such. “Long time no see.”

“I’m only here to deliver your food, that’s it. I don’t want anything to do with you,” Daryl said, turning around to head down the hall.

“Wait, I just got one question for you,” Richard said.

Daryl stopped, but didn’t turn around. He was willing to listen but he wasn't going to act like he was engrossed in what his father had to say. “What?”

“I didn’t raise you to be like this, running around with chinks and niggers and faggots. Where the hell did my son go?” Daryl couldn't tell if he was being serious or if he just wanted to get a rise out of him. Either way, it didn’t matter. He was pissed.

“He’s dead,” Daryl said as he spun around, spit flying out of his mouth from the force of his words. “You did a shitty ass job of raising me. Whatever twisted version of reality you’re clinging to don’t matter. That son you keep talking about? The one you ‘raised’? He died a long time ago, and he don’t want nothing to do with you. These are good people,  _my_  people, and you've done nothing but insult them since you got here. You scared my kid, you insulted Michonne, and you've been trying to mock the relationship that me and Rick have since the moment you saw us.

"I don’t care what you think anymore and I am tired of living under your thumb. It took me a while but I changed, for the better might I add. This prison,” Daryl said, gesturing towards the walls around them, “is my family. This is where I belong. I never had a home before, and I finally found one with these people. It’s wherever Rick and Carol and Judith and Carl and Michonne and Tyreese and Glenn and Maggie and Hershel and Beth and Sasha and everyone in this damn prison are. And yes, there’s a large mix of different people. Some are Black and Asian and gay and Mexican, but I don’t care. I’m so past caring. I’d give my life for any one of these people at the prison here because they deserve to live, regardless of who they may love or what color their skin is.

“Now I don’t care if you eat your food or you throw it across the room, do whatever you want. It doesn't matter because I’m swearing to you right now, you’ll be gone by sun down tomorrow,” Daryl said. For once, Richard was absolutely speechless, an aspect that Daryl was happy to see. Daryl had stood up to his father, and he had never felt more empowered. He turned on his heel and left, ignoring the angry calls of his father.

It wasn’t long before he was out of view of his father's cell and he stopped, leaning up against the wall. He was angry, so fucking angry. He'd worked so hard to change the person he used to be, to be a better person. But all he could think about was his past, about the person he used to be, and it made him angry. He hated his father for coming in and ruining everything. He let out a groan of frustration and punched the nearest wall. He heard his hand crack against the cement wall and pain erupted throughout his hand, but he didn't care. He glanced down at his knuckles and noticed they were bloody. He ripped a scrap off from his shirt and wrapped it around his fingers, tying it off tightly. He felt calm all of a sudden, the slight pain in his knuckles helping to ground him and he found the ability to keep walking.

He was tempted to go back to where Carl and Rick were, but he didn't want to run into anyone else. He was sick and tired of anything to do with his Father. He didn't want to talk anymore. He was tired and wanted to sleep. Daryl took the long way back to his and Rick's cell, trying to avoid running into anyone. It was getting late so most everyone was inside by now.

Twenty minutes later he was in their cell. He toed off his boots and slipped off his jacket, setting his crossbow down on the table next to the bed. Daryl crawled into bed and scooted all the way to the side closest to the wall. In seconds he was asleep, absolutely exhausted.

* * *

By the time he and Carl were done prepping and storing the meat he and Daryl had caught, it was fairly late. Carl headed off to bed almost immediately but Rick went around the prison to make sure everyone was accounted for. Judith was already in bed sound asleep when Rick went to check on her. He watched her for a few seconds before he returned to his own cell.

Quietly he stepped into the cell. He had looked for Daryl while he was accounting for the rest of the prison and when he didn't find him, he figured he had already returned to their cell. Sure enough, Daryl's boots were sitting beside the bed and the hunter was curled up fast asleep. Rick was quiet as kicked off his shoes and took of his jacket, not wanting wake up the already asleep archer.

"Rick?" Daryl asked sleepily as Rick slipped into bed beside him.

“Hey,” Rick said softly, resting a comforting hand on Daryl’s hip once he was settled. “Everything go okay?”

Daryl just nodded and Rick could tell he didn’t want to talk about it right then. "All good," he said, cupping Rick's neck with his hand.

Rick smiled and turned his head so he could press a kiss against the inside of Daryl's wrist. He noticed the makeshift bandage on his hand and couldn't help but ask, "What happened?"

"Punched a wall," Daryl mumbled softly, not willing to go into any more detail right then.

Rick could tell he didn’t want to talk about it so he didn’t ask what had happened. "Promise you'll have Hershel look at it tomorrow? Let him re-bandage it," Rick asked, rubbing a thumb across the skin of his hip.

Daryl nodded and rested his head on Rick’s shoulder, pressing a soft kiss against his shoulder. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me today.”

Rick smiled and brushed the hair out of Daryl’s eyes. “That’s my job, I take it very seriously.”

Daryl laughed softly and sighed. Rick could tell he was still exhausted.

“You’re tired,” Rick said. “Sleep now, Daryl.”

Daryl nodded and debated with himself momentarily before he spoke again. “Love ya.”

“I love you,” Rick said and within seconds, they were both asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what'd you think? I'm sure there were parts that could have done better but in the end, I think it turned out alright. Next chapter should be the last chapter and the whole Richard problem will be settled.
> 
> I tried to stay away from the use of any derogatory words because I certainly don't use them myself, but I felt like if I didn't I wouldn't be accurately portraying Richard the way I believe he is. He's a racist bastard and that's the language he uses. I'm sorry if that offended anyone, it definitely wasn't my intention to do so. I just my depiction of Daryl's father. 
> 
> Anyways, as always comments, kudo's, etc are always welcome.


	3. Justice Is Served

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here at last, the final chapter. I had originally intended only to write one chapter, but I ended up liking the story more than I thought I would so I chose to continue it. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

“Daddy, Daddy wake up,” Rick heard and jolted awake instantly. He wasn’t sure what time it was. The cell was still pitch black, he could barely see anything, so he knew it was still late, maybe three am. Daryl was still curled up next to him, the blankets moving up and down in an even pattern letting him now that he was still asleep. Judith was standing beside him, the stuffed panda Daryl had found her clutched tightly in her hands. He could hardly see her features in the dark but he could tell something was wrong. Her voice was shaky and it sounded as if she was crying.

“Hey,” Rick said softly, not wanting to wake up the still sleeping Daryl. He sat up and pulled his daughter into his lap. She shifted around for a few seconds before she found a comfortable position. “What’s wrong?”

Judith rested her head against Rick’s shoulder and Rick ran his fingers through her hair softly, trying to calm her down. “Had a bad dream,” was all she said, hiding her face in Rick's neck as she clung to his t-shirt. Her voice was thick with tears and Rick found himself running a hand softly up and down her back. Rick couldn't tell if she was about to fall asleep or was about to start crying, maybe both.

“You wanna talk ‘bout it?” Rick asked softly, continuing to rub her back in an attempt to keep her calm.

“Was scary,” she said, already half asleep. Judith’s eyelids closed and she yawned. “Daryl’s Daddy isn't nice, he killed you.” Explaining what had happened seemed to wake her up because Judith's eyes opened once more and she hiccupped, trying to hold back sobs.

“Oh baby,” Rick shushed her, holding her tightly in his arms. Usually he would ask her more about it, she always seemed to sleep better after a nightmare if she talked about it, but Judith was already so tired. It was clear to him that all she wanted to do was sleep, and he wasn't going to keep her up any longer than she needed to. “I’m okay, see.” Rick gestured up and down his body. He wiggled his fingers in front of her and she giggled quietly. “I'm alright sweetheart, everyone is all right. Richard's gonna be gone first thing tomorrow, I swear. He won’t be able to hurt anyone again.”

“Not even Daryl?” she asked, so softly he could barely hear her, and Rick's heart hurt.

“Especially not Daryl,” Rick said. "He's got us to protect him, nobody is going to hurt Daryl ever again."

“Good,” she said, yawning loudly. “I’m sleepy, Daddy.”

“Come on,” Rick said softly, pulling back the covers to his and Daryl's bed. She slid under them, wrapping her arms around her stuffed panda and holding it tightly to her chest, before she snuggled her face into Daryl’s shoulder.

Daryl woke up as soon as Judith started shifting next to him. “Hey kid,” he asked softly, brushing her thin hair out of her face. “You okay?”

Judith nodded sleepily, eyes already starting to close. She was too tired to speak. Judith shifted further under the blankets so that she was almost completely covered. Once that was settled she pressed further into Daryl's shoulder and was asleep almost instantly, curled against Daryl's side.

Rick settled down beside her carefully, not wanting to jostle her awake. Once he was settled Rick reached across the Judith and rested a hand on Daryl’s hip, rubbing the smooth skin with the pad of his thumb. Sometimes he just felt the need to reach out and make sure he was actually there.

“She tell you what it was about?” Daryl asked, so quietly he had to strain to hear him, once he was sure Judith was asleep. Daryl knew there were only three reasons Judith ever crawled into bed with them: she was sick, she had a nightmare, or if it was storming outside. Considering she didn’t feel warm and he couldn't hear any thundering or see any lightning, he figured she had to have had a nightmare.

Rick debated with himself briefly over whether or not he should tell Daryl the truth. He knew the idea of her having a nightmare about his father would upset Daryl even more than he already was, but he’d be even angrier if Rick didn’t tell him about it. “She dreamt Richard killed me,” he said softly, not wanting to wake her up.

Daryl tensed under his hand and his eyes blazed bright. Rick tried to calm him down by running his hand up and down his side, but it didn't work. “She what?” he said angrily and Rick shushed him.

“You’re going to wake her up,” he said so quietly he could barely hear himself. “It’s alright, we’re okay Daryl. It was just a dream, obviously I’m still standing here.”

“I don't care if it was just a dream, that's not the point Rick. She’s having nightmares about my father,” Daryl said, voice cold as ice, “what do you want me to say?”

“He’s gonna be gone tomorrow,” Rick said. “He’s gonna be long gone from here, he can’t hurt anyone at the prison anymore. She’ll forget about him in a few days, you know she will.”

“I don’t care. He’s got her terrified and I’m not okay with that. I've got half the mind to put an arrow in him myself. He doesn't get to come here and ruin the lives of the people I care about. He doesn't get to live after we've lost so many good people,” Daryl said quietly.

“You know that’s not what you want,” Rick replied.

“My kid’s having nightmares about my father murdering my lover, maybe my perception has changed,” Daryl said. Rick couldn't help but smile, despite the situation they were in. Daryl had never out right referred to Judith as his kid, at least not to Rick he hadn't. Rick would be the first to admit that Daryl was basically her second father. Blood didn’t matter, not in the world they lived in today, and Daryl was just as much as her father as he was. He had gone above and beyond to protect and provide for her, especially within those crucial few days after she was born when Rick was so out of his mind with grief he couldn't function properly, and he had done just as much for Carl. Daryl Dixon was Carl and Judith’s second father, anyone who said otherwise was delusional.

“That’s why we’re going to get rid of him tomorrow, but we aren't going to kill him. That’s not what anyone wants, that's not what you want, and I respect that. That’s not who we are, we've got to hold on to some shred of humanity,” Rick said softly.

“He wouldn't show us the same mercy,” Daryl said and Rick couldn't help but agree. He’d only known the man for a two days but he had known him long enough to get a good sense of his character.

“I know, but we can’t just kill him. I want to, believe me all I have to think about is what he’s done to you and my blood starts to boil. But that’s not the kind of people we are. You don’t want that,” Rick said.

Daryl nodded with a heavy yawn and didn’t speak again. Rick could tell Daryl was done talking for now and he respected him enough to listen. “Let’s go back to bed, tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

Daryl nodded and shifted slightly into a more comfortable position. Judith whined softly in her sleep, maybe she was having the beginning of another nightmare, and Daryl reached out to comfort her. He ran a hand up and down her back gently and she calmed down instantly, relaxing back into a peaceful slumber. Rick kept his hand on Daryl’s hip, fingers curling around his noticeable hip bone. He made a mental note to make sure Daryl ate more; sometimes the hunter gave up his portions so that others could eat more and Rick knew that that had to stop. “Love ya,” he said softly, eyes already starting to slip closed.

“Love ya,” Daryl mumbled and within minutes the two of them were sleeping once again.

* * *

“I think we all know why we’re gathered here,” Carol said from the head of the table. She had taken charge of the whole "operation get rid of Richard" so it was only fitting that she would lead the meeting. Carol, Tyreese, Sasha, Michonne, Daryl, Rick, Maggie, Glenn, and Hershel were all sitting around the large wooden table in what they considered the prison's meeting room. Usually when they held important group meetings there were more people, but this situation was a little different and they felt it was best to have only the original crew present. Carl was helping Beth plan the kids’ lessons today so the two of them were both absent. “We need to decide what to do with Richard.”

“He can’t stay here,” Daryl said, voice even. Talking with Rick had helped a lot when it came to keeping his emotions in check and it was relatively easy for him to keep his head level now. “I know we made a pact to take in anyone who needed our help, but he’s not worthy of it.”

“I agree,” Sasha said. “He can’t stay here. The whole prison has been talking about him. They all may be gossiping about the drama between Daryl and his father, but they’re all weary of him. No one feels comfortable around him, and they haven’t even met him. After what he pulled in the common room two days ago, I don’t feel safe having him around any of the people here.”

“What he’s done to Daryl would have had me voting to throw him out right away, the fact that all he’s done since the moment he got here was cause trouble only solidifies my vote,” Michonne said, drumming her fingers on the table top.

“But we can’t kill him,” Tyreese added, always the humanitarian. “I’m all for throwing him out, don’t get me wrong, but we can’t kill him. That can’t be us.”

“Judith’s scared of him, Daryl can’t stand to look at him, the prison is weary of him, and frankly I just want to kick his skull in, but I agree,” Rick said. “Killing is not the option, no matter how tempting it is. But how do we keep him from coming back?”

“We took the usual way back,” Glenn said, speaking up for the first time since this situation had begun. “Didn't pass by any signs dictating where we are plus, he fell asleep on the drive down here. He doesn't know our exact location.”

That had been Daryl’s idea. You could never be sure if who you were bringing back with you would be a good fit so he had specifically designed a plan that would make it harder for any newcomers to locate the prison until they were sure they could be trusted.

“I’d say by now there’s not many maps left and trying to find his way back here would be difficult,” Maggie said. “Plus, we've definitely improved our security methods since Andrew infiltrated the prison over six years ago. I don’t think we have to worry about him making his way back here and if by some miracle he does, we can defend the place.”

“I don’ think he’d want to come back anyways,” Daryl added. “But those are both good points.”

“Alright,” Rick said. “Now that we've settled that, what’s the plan for getting him out of here?”

“I think I know,” Carol said. “I've been thinking about this since the topic was first brought up, even though I haven't mentioned it until now. I know there’s been a few occasions where we had to kick somebody out but that was slightly different, this is more serious. Maybe the plan’s a little barbaric but we can’t afford to make any mistakes. I propose we handcuff and blindfold him before moving him into a car. We drive a few hours away, drop him off a few miles outside of town with the key to the handcuffs, and then leave.”

The table was quiet for a few seconds as everyone processed the plan. “I like it,” Rick said, contemplating. “I’m not sure we could do much better anyway. What do you think Daryl?”

Daryl was pleased with the plan. It was well thought out and sounded as if nothing was going to go wrong, not to mention they really had no other choice. Daryl didn’t care what they did, as long as it meant his father was far away from the people he cared about. “Works for me.”

“Perfect,” Carol said, smiling softly. “Now, who wants to go?”

“I will,” Glenn and Rick said at the same time.

“This is my fault,” Glenn said. “I brought him here, it’s only fitting that I’m the one to help get rid of him.”

Maggie nodded. “I’m coming to. I felt something was off with him but I still brought him back, this is my fault.”

“Well I’m definitely coming,” Daryl said, tone suggesting that no one would be able to convince him otherwise. “And I want Rick with me.”

“Of course,” Rick said and Daryl felt relieved. He didn’t want to admit that Rick’s presence helped calm him, but it was true. He wasn't sure he could do this without him, if that made him a pussy then so be it. Besides, Richard had offended Rick just as much as he had him, he had the right to join them.

“Then it’s settled,” Rick spoke. “Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, and I are going. There’s not enough room to take anyone else. Plus, we can’t afford to spare too many people. Everyone agree?”

Everyone around the table nodded and it was settled. Richard was going be gone in just a few hours.

* * *

“Well look at all you,” Richard said as Glenn, Maggie, Daryl, and Rick stopped in front of his cell. They were each carrying small packs of supplies, just in case something bad happened and they had to alter their original plan. “The chink, the bitch, the pussy boy, and the faggot all at once, I must have done something real special to get all this attention.”

“Oh can it you pig,” Maggie said, rolling her eyes. She wasn't about to take anyone’s crap. Rick watched as Daryl clenched his fists at his sides but didn’t say anything.

Rick opened up the cell door and quickly wrenched Richard’s wrists behind his back before he could try anything, handcuffing them tight enough to leave bruises. Once he was subdued Rick stepped aside and Maggie stepped in, tying the blindfold around his eyes tightly. They had already tested it out, there was no way he could see through the thing. “Yer a pretty little thing, aren't ya? Sugar, if ya wanted to get kinky all ya had to do was ask, we could have some real fun,” Richard purred.

Glenn elbowed him in the lower back, making him grunt out in pain. “Say another word to her and I swear to God you’ll regret it.”

“Jesus, Chinaman, what do ya think yer gonna do? Yer more of a pussy then my own son,” Richard scowled. Rick knew he couldn't see anything so there was no way to direct his eye contact, but somehow he seemed to look right at Glenn.

“He’s Korean,” Daryl growled in his defense, pulling Richard out of the cell none too gently.

“Whatever.”

“You say another word and I swear I’ll shut you up myself,” Daryl said, pushing him forward. They were going to take the back way out. None of them really wanted to be seen by anyone else in the prison, it was too early to have a confrontation with anyone.

“God I’m shaking in my bedazzled boots,” Richard mocked, but he said nothing else. Daryl pulled him down the hall, leading him out of the prison. Richard couldn't see where he was going and Daryl wasn't worried about making sure he didn’t trip or run into anything.

“Damn it Daryl,” Richard snarled as he tripped once again. “If you’re going to be my lead the least you could do was make sure I didn’t fall.”

“Whoops,” Daryl said as he pulled Richard back on his feet, not an ounce of compassion in his voice.

Ten minutes later the five of them were outside. The sun was just over the horizon, painting the sky in beautiful shades of orange, pink, and blue. Miraculously they had managed to bypass everyone in the prison but it was still early, the sun had barely risen, so most everyone was still asleep.

They chose the car that had the fullest tank and piled everyone inside. They had already decided before they grabbed Richard who was going to sit where. Rick and Daryl had the biggest beef with the man so they would be sitting in the front. Daryl got in the driver’s seat, Rick got in the passenger’s seat, and Glenn, Maggie, and Richard piled into the back, seating Richard in the middle where he would surely be the most uncomfortable. Carol and Michonne were already at the gate, poised to open it up to let them out. Once the gate was open, Daryl took off leaving the well protected prison behind them.

They took a left once they hit the main road. The only real plan they had was to make as many twist and turns as possible so it'd be impossible for Richard to keep track. Rick had a map in his hands and marked off every time they made a turn, just in case they got lost coming back. They had no exact destination as to where they were going to drop Richard off, all they knew was that they wanted it to be as far away from the prison as possible. The car was relatively quiet for a while, nobody felt much like talking. It was kind of nice, Rick thought, despite their situation. Georgia scenery had always been beautiful and with the quickly rising sun in the background that fact only became even more evident.

An hour passed before anyone spoke, and of course it had to be Richard. “So how’d y’all meet?” Richard asked. The question was relatively innocent and Rick figured he had to have other intentions. Richard wasn't the type of guy to make small talk just for the sake of making small talk.

Nobody answered, purposefully ignoring him, and after a few seconds Richard spoke again. “What, ya can’t even answer an old man’s question? Someone needs to teach y’all some damn manors. Didn't yer parents teach ya to respect yer elders?”

“We met early on in the apocalypse, end of story,” Rick said. He didn’t feel like talking to Richard, nobody felt like talking to Richard. He was a racist pig who took every opportunity he could to shock people with his words. Not to mention their meeting was a long story and he really didn’t want to get into everything right now. It was too long and too heart breaking to talk about.

“We've got nothing but time sheriff,” Richard said and Rick noted how it sounded more like an insult than anything else. “Might as well speak up.”

Rick didn't want to open up, but he knew that Richard wouldn't shut up until he did. “I was in the hospital when everything went down. Managed to make it out not too long after everything started. Met up with my son, Daryl, Glenn, and Carol right after everything happened. There were many others but they've either left the group or died. We four are the only people left from the original group. We all met Hershel, Beth, and Maggie shortly after and have just acquired more people over the past years,” Rick said, staring out the window. Now all he could think about was the long list of people they had lost since the world ended: Lori, T-Dog, Sophia, Andrea, Amy, so many people since Rick had first met the Atlanta crew were dead now and they continued to lose more nearly every week.

“What about Merle?” Richard asked, head staring directly at Daryl even though he couldn't see anything. Rick watched as Daryl gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles started to turn white. “Ya know, yer brother? The black bitch told me he was dead. Ya remember him, don’t ya Daryl? Or are ya so wrapped up in the fake family you have going you've forgotten yer own flesh and blood.”

“Merle was with us in the beginning,” Daryl said, and Rick could see how hard it was for him to stay calm. Merle’s death still affected Daryl. Maybe not as badly now as it had when it first happened, but it still did. “We got separated but met up again later and he was killed.”

“Wish he was the one that had survived,” Richard said under his breathe but everyone in the car could still hear him.

Glenn was the first to react. He smacked the back of Richard’s head, the force of the impact forcing him to go flying forward. “I’m warning you, shut the fuck up.”

Richard laughed, but didn’t say anything. Rick reached over and rested a hand on Daryl’s knee, trying to provide him with some sort of comfort. They didn't usually do anything like this in the presence of others, both of them were way too private for that, but Daryl needed Rick's touch and Rick wasn't going to deny him it. It seemed to work because the second his hand touched his knee Daryl began to relax. Daryl placed his hand over Rick’s and lifted it to his face, pressing his lips against the callused skin of his hand before letting it go.

They drove in relative silence for another hour before Richard spoke once again. Rick was really starting to get tired of his voice. “Don’t ya care where I've been since this all started?” Richard asked.

“No,” Daryl said, catching sight of his father in the rearview mirror. “I couldn't care less.”

“The latest group I was with was the marauders. They had a good code, brutal but it was something,” Richard said, ignoring the fact that nobody cared about his story. Rick rolled his eyes and turned back towards the window. He didn’t want to hear about Richard’s story. “They hated lying above anything and survived on a system of claiming. It was kind of fun. You got whatever you wanted, just had to claim it before the others did. They were basically a biker gang, sort of like a modern day version of Hells Angels.”

Everyone in the car froze, unable to deny the similarities between the group that Richard had described and the group they had had a run in with a while back. Rick’s hand clenched into a fist at the mention of that group. He couldn't be certain, but it sure did sound like the group Michonne, Carl, and he had run into a little over a year ago. The three of them were on a run when they got caught by a walker herd and had to hole up in an abandoned house.

They’d been ambushed by a group of men in the middle of the night, and before any of them knew it, they were overpowered. Rick and Michonne had their hands tied behind them but one of the men held Carl by his throat. Apparently he had claimed Carl and felt like he had the right to attack his son. He attacked him, right in front of Rick and Michonne. They were powerless to stop it. Rick had never been so scared, so angry, in his life. By the time Rick managed to get free the man had just began to rape Carl. Michonne and he had taken out some of the men but there were too many of them, they had to run for it. Most of the men had gotten away, including the one who had hurt Carl, and Rick still hadn't forgave himself for what had happened.

Rick felt someone grip his knee and he looked down, recognizing the strong hand that belonged to Daryl. Rick gripped it tightly for a few seconds before letting go. He smiled at Daryl to let him know he was okay and Daryl turned back to the road. Nobody knew how badly that experience affected him more than Daryl did, and the gentle touch was meant to calm down.

“But enough about me, let’s talk about you,” Richard said, changing the subject. “Tell me Sheriff, if you've got two kids where’s yer wife?”

Rick didn’t answer, too busy staring out the window to care. The last thing he wanted to do was explain his life, explain what had happened to Lori, to this man. Lori would always hold a special place in his heart, she was the mother of his children after all, but he no longer loved her like he had when they were first married, hadn't loved her like that since before Shane died

“She must be dead,” Richard said softly. For the first time since Rick had meant him he almost sounded sympathetic. “I know what that’s like, and I’m sorry for yer loss.” The car was quiet for a few seconds before Richard continued. “I still don’t know why you’re with Daryl though. I know it’s hard to get any ass today but surely you could do better than him. Don't tell me that you're not, because it's clear to anyone with a brain that you are.”

Daryl’s eyes were fixated on the road ahead of him but Rick could tell his father’s words hit him hard by the subtle ways he reacted. His gaze hardened, his grip on the steering wheel tightened, and his teeth were clenched together so hard Rick was surprised he hadn't broken them. Daryl was insecure, had been insecure since the moment they had gotten together. Years of abuse, constant humiliation, and rejection had made him that way. It had taken Rick a long time to help Daryl get over the worst of it and despite his effort to reassure him, there were still days when he believed Rick could find someone better than him. It didn't matter that Rick didn't want anyone else or that the very thought of leaving Daryl for someone with less baggage made him sick, he would always have his insecurities. Daryl was already hard enough on himself, the last thing he needed was words from Richard furthering his insecurity.

“That doesn't matter,” Rick said, absolutely serious, and it was true. It didn’t matter. He was with Daryl, end of story. People had tried to come between them before but he wasn't going to let it. “If you think you’re going to drive a wedge between us, you can fuck off. I don’t have to explain why I’m with someone, that’s mine and Daryl’s business.”

“Fair enough,” Richard said with a shrug. “I don’t understand it, but whatever. If you want to waste your time with the lowest of the low, be my guest. Last question and then I’ll leave you to your internal contemplation. Who fucks who? I bet Darleena here takes it up the ass, he always liked it. Ain't that right pussy boy?”

Daryl’s face turned pale and he didn’t speak, didn’t know what to say. Rick was about to open up his mouth to say something, but Maggie beat him to. She pulled back her fist and socked him right in the jaw, head twisting sideways with the force of the impact. “Nobody is fucking interested in your comments. What the two of them do behind closed doors is none of your business, shut the fuck up and leave them alone.”

“You’re a feisty one, aren't you?” Richard said. A bruise was already beginning to form on his jaw but he didn’t flinch. “You sure the Asian is enough for you sweetheart? I could show you a good time. Admittedly you’re a little old for me, I like them a bit younger you see. But I think we could have some real fun.”

Before anyone else could react Daryl was swerving the car to the side of the road. Once it was parked he turned around in his seat and pulled off the man’s blindfold. “I’m sick and tired of your fucking comments. You don’t get to talk to her like, you fucking bastard.” Daryl took the bandana they had used as a blindfold and used it to cover Richard’s mouth, making it impossible for him to talk.

Richard didn’t seem to mind. He winked at Daryl and began to hum an unrecognizable tune. Daryl just shook his head and turned back around. He put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb.

Rick could tell that Richard was really starting to get to Daryl. His body was tense and his grip on the wheel was so tight he was sure it had to hurt. The muscles in his arms were tight with barely suppressed anger. Rick could tell they needed to stop soon.

It was another hour of absolute silence before Daryl finally pulled the car over. Rick didn’t recognize their surroundings, but that was the point. “You good?” he asked quietly and Daryl nodded. Rick could tell he wasn't but now wasn't the time to talk. Plus, he wasn't really sure there was anything Daryl could tell him that Rick didn’t already know.

Rick, Daryl, Maggie, and Glenn all got out. Daryl reached into the back and pulled his father out of the car. “Here,” he said, pushing the man down so he was sitting on the side of the road. “Nearest town’s a few miles that way,” Daryl said, pointing to the east of them. “We’ll give you the key so ya can unlock yer handcuffs, I know ya know what you’re doing so don’t try and throw us off.” Daryl bent down and gripped Richard’s shirt tightly, wrenching him upwards so their faces were right in front of each other. “If you come near me, my family, or my prison again, I will end you. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise. Do. Not. Test. Me.”

Daryl pushed him and Richard went flying. Rick bent down and slipped the key into his hands before pulling away. He was turning around to get back to the car when Richard spoke.

Richard moved his head back and forth frantically until the makeshift gag slipped free. “Your son’s name is Carl, isn't it?” Rick didn’t answer and Richard took that as confirmation. “Well I’ll be damned. I was right. I didn’ recognize ya at first. It wasn't until I was in the car blindfolded that I recognized yer voice. Ya don’ recognize me do ya? I guess that’s fair. After all ya didn’t hear my voice and it was way too dark to actually see anything. That group I mentioned I was with? They ambushed you a while ago, maybe a year, didn’t they? I was a part of it. Bet ya can’t guess what I did?”

Rick’s body went rigid. It felt as if someone had a hold of his heart and was slowly squeezing it. His heartbeat quickened and blood roared in his ears so loudly he couldn't hear anything else. Suddenly, he knew exactly who this man was. This was the guy who had raped his son. He’s the coward who had rolled off of Carl the second Rick broke free from his bonds and ran. Rick had wanted to go after him, make the bastard who had hurt his son pay, but Carl was terrified and he needed him. He had to put aside his quest for revenge in order to take care of his son. Carl, Michonne, and Rick had ran until they felt safe enough to stop. “You hurt my son?” Rick said in an explosive form of anger. Rick’s vision was tinted red and all he could think about was making this man pay. “That was you?”

Richard laughed, a good hearty laugh like what he had done hadn't nearly cost Rick his son. “We watched you for a while, long before we actually made our move. We weren't sure what we could get from you, but we figured you probably had something. I claimed your son the second I saw him. Sex is hard to come by today and he just looked so damn pretty, I couldn’t resist. Shame you interfered before the real fun began, it would have been something special. The minute or two I had with him was very enjoyable, for me at least.”

That altercation had messed Carl up more than anything. Rick had spent months trying to provide him with the comfort he needed, but he couldn't. He wasn't equipped for a situation like that. If it wasn't for Daryl, who knew exactly what Carl was going through, Rick wasn't sure that Carl would have ever recovered. Daryl spent hours alone with Carl, helping him work through what had happened. He had saved his son and Rick knew that no matter how hard he tried, he could never relay just how gratified he was to have Daryl Dixon in his life at a time like that.

Rick was on top of Richard in an instant. Richard was on his back, his hands still cuffed behind him. Rick was sure the position had to be uncomfortable for him but he didn’t care, nothing else mattered right now. His fists went flying, punching at every bit of flesh he could get his hands on. All he saw was the silhouette of a man on top of his son and the sight of his son bloody and broken on the floor. All he heard were Carl’s frantic cries for help and the sound of him struggling to break free. Nothing else mattered right now but getting revenge for what this bastard had done to his son.

“Rick, God damn it,” Glenn called. It took both Maggie and Glenn to get the ex-lawman off of him and they still struggled to keep him restrained. Rick was still fighting to get free, hands itching to beat every inch of Richard’s body. Nobody got to do something like that to his son and get away with it.

Daryl was frozen in anger beside Rick, gaze trained on the man on the ground. He took a few steps forward and bent down so he was eye-level with his father. “You the bastard who hurt Carl?”

Richard laughed and spit a mouthful of blood at Daryl. “What are you gonna do Darleena? You can’t do shit.”

Rick watched as Daryl drew his crossbow and aimed it straight at Richard. “You fuckin' bastard. Hurtin' me is one thing, hurtin' Carl is entirely different. You fucked with his head, fucked him up inside, and yer gonna laugh 'bout it? You don' come back from something like that the same person.”

“Daryl,” Maggie said softly, stepping towards Daryl. “Stop. This isn't who we are.” Maggie rested a hand on Daryl’s crossbow and pushed down so it was pointing at the ground.

“This isn't who we are?” Rick scoffed, stepping around Glenn’s outstretched hand. “This man raped my son, and I’m supposed to just let him go? Let him live? He doesn't get to live after what he’s done.”

“You don’t think I want to kill him? I've watched that boy grow up. He was a boy when I first met him and now he’s a man. I've been there every second. I’d give my life for him, but this is not us. It can’t be. The group decided on this plan, we've got to stick to it,” Maggie said, and Rick could tell that she was seriously struggling with what they should do.

“If we killed him the group would understand,” Daryl spoke up. “They’d be behind the decision. Ya don’t fuck with one of our own and get away with it, especially not one of the kids. Carl might not be a kid anymore but we’ll always see him as one.”

While the three of them were arguing over what to do, Glenn was dead quiet and Rick thought that was strange. Before anyone could say another word the man stepped forward. “I brought you here,” he said, kneeling down next to Richard. “I brought you into my home because I thought you deserved a shot, boy was I wrong. You have a long history with hurting the people I care about and even though I agree with Maggie that we can’t kill you, we can’t allow you to live. Who’s to say you aren't just going to terrorize another group once you get free, hurt some more people? No, we can’t take those chances.”

During Richard and Rick’s scuffle Richard had managed to drop the key. Glenn picked it up in his hand and tossed it as far as he could into the woods. “What the fuck,” Richard growled, trying to get up but Daryl pushed him back down again.

“You've treated Daryl like shit his entire life, you raped Carl, you scared Judith, you insulted Rick and Michonne, and you made a pass at my wife, none of which deserve a free pass. You want to live? Find the damn key, but you better do it before the walkers come.” Glenn stood up and pulled his gun out, firing four shots into the air. The sound was loud enough to attract the attention of any walker close enough to hear it.

“Maybe you’ll live, maybe you won’t. That’s up to how fast you are.” Glenn stood up and took Maggie’s hand, walking back to the car. Rick and Daryl both stood in shock, not sure what to think. The sound of walkers could be heard coming up behind them and that forced them to move quickly. The four of them strode back to the car.

“You can’t just leave me here,” Richard screamed, glancing towards the walkers that were now coming straight for him.

Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, and Rick ignored him as they got back into their car, same positions they were in before. Daryl waited until everyone was safely inside before he peeled away. Rick glanced into the side mirror and saw Richard hurrying off into the woods. Maybe he’d survive, but Rick found that highly unlikely. If he was being honest with himself, he didn't want the man to live. He'd done too much shit to the people he loved to be allowed to live.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky by the time they made it back to the prison. Carol and Michonne were there to open up the gates for them and the four of them piled out of the car. “Everything go okay?” Carol asked.

They glanced at each other before Daryl spoke up. “Yeah, everything went okay.” He knew eventually he’d have to tell her what really happened, but right now all he wanted to do was get inside.

Glenn and Maggie bid them goodbye before they took off, probably to go check on their kids. They had a makeshift nursery set up in one of the old offices which was where their sons were. It was basically a daycare where parents could leave their younger kids when they had other duties. Beth and the sisters they had brought in a while back, Carrie and Catherine, usually were in charge of running the place. Rick and Daryl went in search of Carl in Judith.

Judith was playing go fish with Tyreese and Hershel when the two of them walked into the common room. All three of them looked up once they heard footsteps and Judith beamed when she caught sight of the two of them. She ran over and jumped up into Daryl’s arms. Daryl swung her around a few times before settling her on his hip. She was getting too big for Daryl to be carrying her like that, but it was a routine the two of them had been doing for years and Daryl didn’t want to stop it anytime soon.

“Hi Daryl, Daddy,” Judith said, every bit as happy as she always was.

“Hey baby, you okay?” Daryl asked and Judith nodded.

“Tyreese and Hershel taught me how to play Go Fish, it’s really fun,” Judith said. She lowered her voice a little bit and spoke again. “They’re really bad at it ‘cause I've beat them every time so far.”

Daryl laughed, he was pretty sure they were letting her win but he wasn't going to ruin her fun. “That’s great, Judith,” Rick said, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

Judith giggled before her expression took on a more serious note, realizing where they had just returned from. “Did you deal with the bad man?”

“Yep,” Daryl said. “He’s never coming back here again.”

“Yay,” Judith said and jumped down, running back over to the table. “Daddy, Daryl, come play with us, please?”

“You go ahead,” Rick said softly so that only Daryl could hear. “I’m going to go have a talk with Carl, he deserves to know what’s going on.”

Daryl nodded, not willing to argue. Carl deserved to hear the truth of what happened, no matter how difficult it was going to be, and Rick should be the one to tell him. “I’ll see you later then.”

Rick nodded and ran a hand down Daryl’s back in way of saying goodbye. “I've got something to take care of baby, but Daryl’s going to play with you, that okay Judith?”

Judith nodded and patted the seat next to her. “Come on Daryl, you can sit by me.”

Daryl smiled and walked over to the table she was sitting at once Rick was gone. “My Go Fish skills are a little rusty, I don’t know how good I’m going to be at this.”

“That’s okay, I’ll help you,” she said and Tyreese dealt him in. Maybe everything today hadn't gone as planned, but at least the threat was taken care of and his family was safe. After all, that was what really mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with what to do with Richard for a long time before I came to this conclusion. Maybe it wasn't what was best, but it seemed reasonable to me and I think it's something that the group may have done on the show. (Who am I kidding, they most likely would have killed him on sight but let's try and give them the benefit of the doubt)
> 
> So maybe Richard died, maybe he didn't. I'll leave it up to you to interpret. If you think he should have died, you can believe that. If you think he should have been spared, you can believe that. It's up to you.
> 
> I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this or not. I am thinking about writing a prequel sort of thing, mainly my interpretation of the Marauder scene, but we shall see.
> 
> Anyways did you like it? Let me know what you thought.


End file.
